Where Does the Water Taste Better?

My mother and I used to have an ongoing, but friendly battle over which water faucet in the house produced the best-tasting water. I know: what a silly thing to have a disagreement about, right?

Well, this particular discussion went all the way back to my childhood, and did not end until my mother's passing back in 1998. In the middle of that time span, however, my mother, very talented with humorous poetry, gave this "battle" its own voice with the following poem:

I'm in disagreement with my daughter

At issue is merely drinking water.

One thing we concede without any griping,

The water arrives in one set of piping.

The point of view that I'm always pitchin'--'

It always tastes best when drawn in the kitchen.

And she will come back with, "straighten your thinking--

The bathroom water is better for drinking!"

Converse opinions with no rhyme or reas'ning,

For certain no pipe can receive any seas'ning.

It's really the silliest bone of contention

That ever could claim any person's attention.

Still quibble continues 'twixt daughter and mother--

Yet why should one faucet taste better than t'other?!

As I said in the opening, this war of words waged on in fun for many, many years,

Only just recently did I have a sudden, blindingly brilliant flash of intuition to explain the entire puzzle; an epiphany, if you will. Too bad mother is not still with me to enjoy and understand (as she would) the explanation behind the "seas'ning" in the pipes.

You see, that house was a typical San Francisco home, with the house built above the garage. There were alleyways between the houses of approximately 6 feet in width. For houses that faced east-west, as ours did, one of those alleyways was on the north side of each house, in pretty much perpetual shade.

That was my "AHA!" moment. When I realized that, I said to myself, "Of course!" The bathroom was on the north side of the house; hence the pipes did not get any ambient heating from the sun beating on the clapboards, while the kitchen was on the south side of the house, with the sink in the corner, at an angle facing south-west--the direction getting the maximum amount of sunlight. An early lesson in solar heating, if you will.

Now, here's the crux of the matter: all her life, my mother had very sensitive teeth, and even had to use special toothpaste to help alleviate that problem She did not like ice cold or chilled water. I, on the other hand, prefer ice water, or at least run very cold from the tap.

So--she preferred the kitchen water, which was a bit warmer, while I preferred the colder water from the bathroom sink. And, when you come right down to it, "flavorless" though water might actually be, warm water does, indeed, have a slightly different taste than cold water.

Mystery solved!

Mother? Can you see this? I've figured it all out! Aren't you proud of me?

Poem "Ultimate Inanity"

penned by Kathy Plamondon, in about 1980 - 85.

Note: As an only child, I am sole heir to my mother's property, intellectual and otherwise. I therefore now hold any copyrights and have carte-blanche to publish or distribute them as I see fit.

Sole heir... wait--no--I'm a female--that makes me an heiress! Well, la-de-dah! How about that!